What it comes to
by Hananiah
Summary: Anakin's death drives Obi Wan to make a drastic choice hints of obiani anipadme, obisiri


Obi Wan ran.  
Blindly he headed deeper into the heart of the Temple. The soft, dull chime of the death march followed him into the darkness.  
Grief and anger clashed inside him, one choking him around his throat the other clamping tightly around his heart.

He had not felt this much grief since the death of Qui Gon, then the words of Yoda had anchored him, had made sense. However as he stood before the tiny master, listening to his empty trite words of how finally Anakin had done his duty, had saved the Jedi Order, Obi Wan felt as if he were going to be sick.

No One cared.

No one cared that his padawan was dead, that his bright, intense light was now no longer burning. That Obi Wan would never hear the teasing remarks, the love that Anakin had for him. For a comrade a Jedi and a brother.

Yoda could spout all the Jedi wisdom he liked, but Obi Wan was through. Too many people had died, too many times he had heard about their death from the Outer Rim. No longer.

'War is a wanton waste of projectiles' that was what Anakin and all the other Jedi had been reduced to. Instruments of war that the council could use. The Jedi were peacekeepers not soldiers. The Council's reaction to Anakin's death roared inside of him, deafening him. He could not escape.

Even as Anakin's funeral progressed Obi Wan wanted to scream to shout and claw at the walls until his blood stained the walls, thick and ugly and made them see what they had done to his boy.

This boy who he had loved like a son.

He wanted to take Anakin's body and run away, protect him from the last desecration the Jedi Council would bestow upon him. He would find Padme, the only other person who truly loved Anakin and they would mourn, in private.

The Galaxy mourned the death of a hero. The council mourned the death of the chosen one but Obi Wan mourned the death of the man he called his own brother.

His reached his quarters and stormed through, ignoring the memories that breached his tight defences. He couldn't think about the life he had shared with Anakin now, couldn't think about everything the order had lost. That he had lost.

His bedroom remained stark and neat as always. Obi Wan grabbed a knapsack and threw it on the sleep couch; it laid there, its mouth awning into blackness. Obi Wan couldn't stop moving. He opened his closet and flung the contents aside. He didn't care if he made a mess. Someone would clear it up.

He grabbed the few civilian clothes he owned and stuffed them into the bag. He undressed, shredding the robes he wore even as he dressed in the clothes he had packed. One last thing to do then.

He threw the clothes onto the bed and lit them, the Jedi Robes burned as they had when he had committed the body of his beloved Master thirteen years beforehand. As he had done tonight.

He wasn't a Jedi anymore.

He watched them burn, with grief in his heart but also a cleansed feeling that welled from deep inside him. That slowly eased the fist clenched around his heart.

He was through. 

The consummate Jedi Master had finally decided to act for himself.

He moved into the living space as he heard the chime, he didn't care who it was. They would not stop him. The door revealed Siri, but even she could not quell the pain inside of him. Taking his backpack he ignored her as she moved further into the room. She took it all in. His seemingly serene state that had desperation and wildness beneath it.

"Obi Wan I'm so sorry"

His jaw clenched. They were so sorry of course. Sorry that that Anakin had died but of course he had saved millions so it wasn't really a bad trade off.

"Don't" his voice had a mangled quantity, he had never felt this much pain in his life. He didn't want Siri right then.

He wanted to go far away as possible.

"Obi Wan just talk to me please" 

"There's nothing to say anymore"

She reached for him, through the divide that existed between them, her hand open and loving and wanting to help him. She hugged him tightly. He stood stiff in her arms and allowed her to talk, to assume that she could help him now.

"Obi Wan it's alright, the Jedi can rebuild, better and things will change now..." she let out an oomph sound as she was thrown bodily into the wall. She stared at Obi Wan in amazement.

Hurt.

He didn't care.

He had nothing. No emotion. There was no anger, he neither hated nor loved Siri or the order. It has been worn away through the long months of fighting. He had nothing left to offer.

Without another word he turned and said goodbye to his life. As he walked through the halls no one stopped him. He felt the old life wash away in a tidal wave. The Jedi were wrong, he had to serve the force, and the council were mired in politics.

It was time to start anew.

As he stepped onto civilian ground he saw Padme. She too wore the same shattered look, the helplessness but determined to survive. Her belly was swollen with her twins. Anakin's legacy.

For the first time he smiled. She silently offered her hand.

And he took it.

End


End file.
